


Exception

by ChuChuMarshmallow



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-12 10:50:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1185364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChuChuMarshmallow/pseuds/ChuChuMarshmallow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Saruhiko is sick on Valentine's Day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Exception

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone! I didn’t initially have plans to write anything in particular, but after checking the Sarumi tag on tumblr earlier I felt a strange need to. So I whipped this up really quick. Slowly making progress on that 100 prompts table, woohoo! 
> 
> I was gonna put a thing here about crap titles but I forgot what it was exactly. 
> 
> Enjoy!

 

When Misaki rushes into their apartment, breathlessly slamming the front door behind him, Saruhiko actually makes an effort to pull away from his damp linen to listen to the rant that he knows is coming. Except that it’s not happening fast enough, and as much as he’d enjoy listening to Misaki panting for endless minutes any other day, his head is already starting to throb and his body is begging for him to lie back down. So he clicks his tongue, and hurries the process.

 

“How’d it go?”

 

He doesn’t need to elaborate any further; he knows that he and Misaki are on the same page, only solidified by the strangled, exhausted sort of noise that answers him. Saruhiko sighs and moves closer to the edge of the bunk bed. He can’t be bothered to find his glasses to put them on, especially when he’s planning to go back to sleep very soon, so he squints a little while trying to get some sort of focus on Misaki’s outline.

 

“It couldn’t have been that bad. I mean,” He pauses, squints harder to confirm his next statement. “It’s not like you got anything to bring back.”

 

“I didn’t take them, idiot!” Misaki’s words tumble out as if they’d been the first to escape a prison. Saruhiko raises an eyebrow, half at the declaration and half at the meaning behind it.

 

“So you did get chocolates? Tch, you could’ve at least brought some back with you. I would’ve-”

 

He inhales wrong and triggers a series of coughs. No sooner than he'd managed to regain control over himself he finds Misaki standing on the edge of the bottom bunk, one hand gripping something for balance, face dangerously close and previous topic forgotten. Before Saruhiko can lecture him about catching his cold, the back of Misaki’s free hand is on his forehead. It’s a lot cooler than Saruhiko expected, though he probably could’ve guessed that the weather was on the lower side when Misaki had worn his larger coat when leaving. The sensation isn’t unpleasant, despite the click of his tongue. With Misaki this close, he can easily see the furrowed expression.

 

“You didn’t get any better since this morning. You weren’t up doing something this whole time, were you? Did you eat?”

 

“You sound like your mother.”

 

Misaki gives him a disapproving look - one that was definitely taken from his mother - and jumps back down. Saruhiko trails after him with his eyes as Misaki leaves the room, and closes them when he’s out of sight. He really is tired, despite actually sleeping through most of the school day. With a soft sigh, he nuzzles back into his pillow, the flatness of it reminding him to switch it out with Misaki’s later on when the elder isn’t looking. He doesn’t get the chance to doze off the way he wants to before Misaki returns, holding a tray of various things in his hands and giving him a stern look.

 

“Come down here so you can eat.”

 

Saruhiko groans unnecessarily loud as Misaki pulls up a folding table to place the tray down on, making a point to exaggerate his discontent at the order. Once it’s painfully obvious that Misaki isn’t willing to let up on the issue, he grumbles and slides out of his bed, only slightly annoyed at the triumphant look that Misaki’s not hiding very well.

 

As Saruhiko begrudgingly picks at his soup, Misaki takes to replacing the sheets on the bed and pulling out a clean change of clothes from Saruhiko’s side of the closet. He’s frustrated at first that Saruhiko still hasn’t eaten much of his food by the time he’s done with it all, but he sighs in defeat and, at least, gets the brunet to drink some juice. Saruhiko nearly spits it out when he realizes that it’s actually fruit juice, but Misaki gives him a weird look and he forces it down for a reason that he isn’t really certain of himself.

 

Misaki disappears quickly before returning with a small bag in his hands and an even smaller blush on his face. He hands them over, and for a few moments, Saruhiko is genuinely confused.

 

“What’s that?”

 

“It’s for you.”

 

“But what is it?”

 

“Just open it and find out!”

 

He does. It doesn’t really surprise him to find chocolates, no, but he can admit that it is a bit unpredicted when Misaki reveals that he bought it before heading to class that morning.

 

“You’re sick so, yeah,” He half-explains awkwardly, shifting weight from foot to foot and looking away. Saruhiko fights against the small, warm feeling in his chest.

 

“I don’t like chocolates, you know.”

 

Misaki fixes a glare at him, and they fall into a small back-and-forth about appreciation and irrelevant holidays before Misaki takes Saruhiko’s unfinished food back to the kitchen. After quickly changing his clothes, the weariness hits again, and Saruhiko doesn’t bother with trying to get back up to his bunk; when Misaki gets back he doesn’t protest much, which is great since Saruhiko _really_ wants to try out his future replacement pillow. He finds himself terribly comfortable relatively soon, almost to the point where he’s a minute or so from falling asleep before he feels the weight of the mattress shift near him. He doesn’t open his eyes or turn around; he knows this habit of Misaki’s, and he knows that any warning about falling ill will fall on deaf ears. They share the pillow because it turns out that Misaki actually is attached to it, and he’s not exactly willing to hand it over to Saruhiko.

 

Misaki mutters something about being glad that there’s no classes tomorrow, and Saruhiko grunts in reply, already drifting back into slumber. Before he falls any deeper, he notes how Misaki’s back presses lightly against his. Thankfully hidden, a small smile accompanies him to sleep, along with thoughts on how nice it feels to have Misaki’s warmth nearby and that maybe, for a day, he can make an exception on his chocolate preferences.

 


End file.
